Worry & Prayer

And after all,
The wind smelled
Of starting
Again.

This poem by David Jones first caught my eye because the title is "An Autumn Wind." It was shared on social media by a friend with a mutual love of fall and this simplicity struck me. Then the more I read it the more I wondered, Why does this resonate with me?

The cliche saying "autumn is the season that teaches us that change can be beautiful" {or something similar} is one that I never really enjoyed; I love the colors of fall, but the changing of the leaves has never been my focus, just the rich color before they fall away. I am not a big fan of change in all honesty. When it comes to everyday life I like routine and predictability and plans. I've written about it before, my struggle with disappointment through changed plans, but recently I have struggled with a change that goes deeper than hurt feelings over disrupted fun.

The youngest Volf Boy has been going through an extremely difficult stage of being just plain naughty the majority of the day and just because he wants to. I hear "No" more times than I care to count along with "You're the meanest mom" and "I don't like you" or "I don't want to see you." And dropping him off at daycare has been a constant & literal fight. Kicking and screaming and hitting and clinging. Why would he cling when he doesn't want anything to do with me, to begin with? And why when less than five minutes after I leave he is just fine either playing or just sitting quietly, but not crying or whining or any sort of sadness?

These are questions that I'm sure we could all find answers to and while I'm not inherently concerned about his behavior, I am in a very consistent feeling of confusion, and that, my friends, is exhausting.

This emotional state is one that I liken to a pair of jeans that are worn out; reaching that thread-bare state where there isn't an actual hole yet, but one quick movement in that particular area or one pluck of a certain thread or two would start the official tear. I feel as though one more "pluck" at my emotions will send me into a hole that I can not mend.

As I've shared this emotional roller coaster with others, I finally had a light bulb go off in my head. . .

The "keyword" in this situation is "I" - I was too focused on these "I" feelings and what I could do about any of it, but I wasn't asking for help from The source that can do anything about it. I was grasping for advice from every other source (all great advice, too), but I hadn't taken it to Jesus.

My prayer life has ebbed and flowed through the years and I've often felt as though I can tend to whine, so then I will focus only on gratitude and then the cycle would continue. As I look back, now, I haven't exactly asked for actual aid - I've asked a lot of "why" questions or "how come" but never really what can He do through me to cause a change.

There's that word again - change. I don't appreciate change. Especially when I'm the one that may be a part of that change. This, even to my ears, sounds absolutely absurd because I have seen how a small change can impact anything - drinking more water, going for walks, reading - choosing these things over not quite as great options have done wonders for my physical and mental health.

Why is it so hard to add prayer to that list?

I've heard so many amazing stories of answered prayers and the stories of how an unanswered or "No" answer ended up being even better than imagined. And I can share when prayer has brought me calm, but my unease comes when talking about an actual answer to prayers - I struggle because I worry that my feeble attempt at explaining how I don't really know for sure if something has been answered will come across as a lack of faith. No one wants to admit to that. But I know for a fact that I struggle with trusting God with the things that I'm fairly certain I should be able to fix.

There is that "I" word again.

How do I "overcome worry to flourish in prayer?" I know deep - so deep it takes a ton of digging some days - that it tends to look like tears of confusion or doubt running down my face. It most certainly is acknowledging my lack of trust and repeatedly accepting Jesus's grace followed by continually asking Holy Spirit for help. It is making a change that feels more like the struggle of growth in early spring, but looking back there will be rich autumnal colors in the memories of how that growth first started - a decision to let the old fall away.

PS - I would like to share that since the time I started writing this post {an embarrassingly long time ago} there has been a very noticeably positive change; I am learning that not only changing my approach - prayer first - but acknowledging any amount of positivity, no matter how small it may seem to me, allows room for more healthy growth instead of needing it all done right now which only leads to frustration when it's not happening.